


Bewitching Matchmakers

by W4nderingStar



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Matchmaker AU, Reyes Family included!, Soulmate AU, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Werewolf Jack, matchmaker Gabe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:27:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27197807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/W4nderingStar/pseuds/W4nderingStar
Summary: All work and no play makes Gabe a very lonely matchmaker. Maybe a night out dancing is exactly what he needs.
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Comments: 41
Kudos: 150





	Bewitching Matchmakers

**Author's Note:**

> Another Witch Gabe Fic? ANOTHER WITCH GABE FIC!! And I will do it again!! 
> 
> But this time, with soul mates and shifters!! That's always a fun time.

**Bewitching Matchmakers**

Gabe parked his Mustang and slid out of the driver’s seat. Grabbing his briefcase from the trunk, he sauntered through the frosted glass, enchanted doors into work. 

“You’re late,” the receptionist—his youngest sister and witch-in-training who really hated being called a receptionist— chastised him. 

“A witch is never late, Izzy,” Gabe said, “he arrives— “

“Don’t  _ even _ finish that sentence!” 

“—exactly when he means to.” 

“Stop ripping off Tolkien, you didn’t even read the books!” 

“Movies were better.” 

Izzy gave him the double birds and a scowl. 

Gabe waved his finger back and forth at her. “Ah, ah, ah. You know what mother says about being crass in the workplace.” 

“Only when there are clients in the building,” Izzy fired back. 

“You should really get on doing the pre-ritual work and getting everyone coffee.” 

Izzy smashed her finger on the keyboard. “And now they are  _ all _ on your appointment schedule.”

Gabe blew her a kiss. “Good morning to you too.” He left the lobby and went to the elevator, going up to the third floor and his corner office.

He opened the window, letting the purifying light in. He opened his case, setting up for the day. Crystals, candles, oils, incense, and his personal anchor, a handful of seashells gathered from his favorite beach. He placed them on a small, red cloth in the center of his desk. 

After a quick look in the mirror to make sure he looked his best, he buzzed Izzy. 

“I’m ready for the first appointment, Miss Reyes.” 

“Of course, Mr. Reyes. You get to deal with a very irate Lady Ferear first. Hope you already had your coffee.”

“My triple shot black coffee was gone before I hit the freeway.” 

“Good thing. Have fun.” 

A few moments later, a middle aged looking lady— elvish by the point of her ears— strutted into his office like she was prepared for a hostile business take over. Behind her walked a young man. Fifteen, max, even if he was an elf. He was plain looking, with auburn hair and a boyishly good looking face.

“Mr. Reyes, thank you for seeing me today,” the Matron said, looking down her nose at him even though he was nearly a foot and a half taller than her. 

“Of course, Lady Ferear.” Gabe put a hand over his heart and gave the respectful nod of minor elven royalty. “May I have your file please?”

She snorted. “I have a mate, thank you very much.” She waved a hand at the boy beside her. “This matchmaking is for Corrilian, my youngest.” 

The boy nodded.

Gabe looked Corrilian up and down. “He’s a little young to be looking for a soulmate.”

“He’s very mature for his age,” his mother said. “All his older siblings have been married off for alliances. His father thought perhaps this time we should find our child someone to _ love _ .” 

She said it like love was the thing wrong with that sentence. The boy blushed, ears twitching.

“I’m sure our screening witch let you know for someone this young, the magic may not take.”

“Forgive me,” Lady Ferear said, smoothing down her short dress, looking everywhere in the office but at Gabe and his tools. “I’m not versed in human magic. If you could please explain how after so much money, you can’t guarantee a match.”

Gabe smiled as he translated her worlds: I don’t trust you. I don’t understand how this works and I don’t like it. I do not trust you to match my son to someone I approve of and if I’m paying what you’re asking, I want to pick.

“It is a complicated process of both magic and machine,” Gabe began in his customer service voice. “But I’ll make it as clear as I can to put your mind at ease.” He turned to Corrilian. “If I could have your file please.”

The boy finally took his hands from behind his back and handed over the red folder with Izzy’s preliminary information to start the process. Gabe opened it and did a quick read through. The boy was sixteen— Gabe guessed so close— standard elven allergies to iron and poor quality silver. Favorite color gold, favorite food roasted quail. Nothing out of the ordinary for a young elf lord. 

He closed the file and set it on the desk. “Magic cannot make you love someone, or they you. Magic doesn’t give you a name, address, and phone number. That’s where our computer comes in. It generates a pool of match candidates that are potential soulmates. From there, magic tells us which is the one. Once your match is found, we provide you with their information. Or, if there is no soulmate, the person you match best with.”

The boy’s eyes shot open. “I might not have a soulmate? Has that happened?” 

Gabe put up a hand. “Everyone has a soulmate. Not to worry about that. The tricky part is timing.”

“Timing?” Lady Ferear pursed her lips, clearing unhappy with that information. 

“Yes. Just because you are ready to find your soulmate, doesn’t mean they are. It could be they are currently in a relationship, and not seeking love. Or, and this could be very possible as elves are incredibly long lived, that your soulmate has not been born yet. There’s dozens of reasons why this reading could not return the results you want.”

“What is the point of contracting you if you cannot guarantee a match?” the Lady asked. 

Gabe smiled. “We wouldn’t be in business if we did have a way to offset the high probability of something like this happening. You will always receive at least five matches generated by our computers and they are assigned a percentage of match probability. If you like, you can pursue those matches. Or, if you want to wait, the computer runs all our unmatched clients every day and flags any new match over the ninety percent threshold.”

“Only ninety percent?” she asked. 

Gabe nodded. “Seventy percent is considered a good match. Eighty percent is a very good match. Ninety percent and over is a soulmate.”

“Not one hundred percent?” the boy asked. 

Gabe shook his head. “No one one hundred percent matches to anyone. We all have our quirks, things about us even a soulmate would roll their eyes at but love us in spite of those differences. A one hundred percent match would be your own profile.” 

“What’s the highest percentage you could guarantee?” Lady Ferear asked. 

“No magic on any plane of existence can guarantee real love,” Gabe told her. “Infatuation potions, memory tampering magic. Those are shortcuts that can and will backfire. If you want real love, based off shared interests, loyalty, and genuine affection, the only magic that works is patience and hard work.”

“Mother, maybe we should come back in a few years,” Corrilian began. 

“No,” Lady Ferear dismissed. “We’ll do this procedure and if there is no match, your father and I will find you someone.”

“But what if my soulmate shows up later?” the boy asked. “Couldn't we wait a few years before that? Just in case?”

She scoffed. “We’ll see.”

Gabe translated again: If you don’t have a soulmate right away, I get to decide who you marry.

“If you’d like to continue with the matching, Corrilian and I must continue alone.”

“Excuse me?” Lady Ferear snapped. 

Gabe smiled at her. “It’s a most personal ritual. Any other energies within the room at the time could throw off the balance of the magic.”

She looked like Gabe had asked her to eat a spider. “How long is this going to take?”

“The ritual takes as long as it needs to imprint on your son’s essence so it can find his match.” 

She huffed. 

“We have a waiting room with every amenity you may require while you wait.”

“You won’t be stealing his soul, correct?”

Gabe kept himself from grimacing. He forced a smile. “I’m not that type of Witch, my lady. I make matches, not steal souls.” 

“Fine.” She stood.

Gabe rose as well and opened the door for her. “Down the hall, first door on the left. We have all the entertainment channels, music. Refreshments are in the mini fridge. If you require anything else, simply pick up the red phone and you reach the receptionist.” 

With some grumbling, she finally got her pompous ass and terrible energy out of his office. He closed the door. It was going to take hours to cleanse the selfrigtious negitiviy out of here. 

“Will the ritual hurt?”

Gabe turned around. He’d nearly forgotten there was still someone in his office. He smiled at the boy that looked at him like Gabe would ask to toss him into a volcano. 

“Oh, that.” He chuckled. “The process is very easy. I just needed her out of here before she drove me crazy. No offense.”

The boy let out a breath. “If you think she’s bad, you should see my father.” 

“Oh I don’t doubt it.” Gabe slipped back into his seat. “This part is very personal. And let me make it clear, the more truthful you are, the better our computer will match you to soulmate candidates.”

Corrilian nodded. 

Gabe opened a drawer in his desk and took out a white folder and a silver pen. He opened the folder, placed it on the desk, and offered the boy the pen. 

Corrilian took it and picked up the folder. As he scanned the questions, his eyes widened and cheeks turned crimson. 

“Sexual preferences are a big part of the matching process,” Gabe said. “It ensures that all parties match to someone they are compatible with. But for someone of your young years, I would suggest putting “unknown''.” Unless you do know of course.” 

“I— but— No. I mean I think—” 

Gabe put up a hand to stop the poor kid from hunting himself. “This part is completely confidential. That pen contains a home crafted ink that only our computer can see. Whatever you choose, only you will know.”

The boy’s blush didn’t abate as he began filling in the questionnaire. “And how exactly will the computer find me a soulmate?”

“The information in the red and white folders take some time to input and be run through the computer. Once our algorithm has both, it runs your information against every person on the planet. Once it finds matches over a certain threshold, it gets put through another round of matching against the information in the white folder. After that, my clan and I perform the matching making ritual to see which of the computer selections is the one. If we find a match, you’ll be sent a pink folder with your soulmate’s information.”

Corrilian’s pen was poised above the paper, staring at him wide-eyed. “And do I… have to be there for that?”

Gabe shook his head. “I only told your mother that to give us some privacy. The less pressure to put what you think you should put in the white folder, the better results you’ll get.” 

The boy took a breath and let it out slow. “Thank you, Mr. Reyes.”   
  


“Take your time, be as truthful as possible, and if not a soulmate right now, we’ll find you some lovely people to date and practice with.”

The boy chuckled nervously. “Easy for you to say. I’m sure you have the perfect soulmate at home and I haven’t been alone in a room with anyone I’ve wanted to date.”

Gabe smiled despite the unintended barb. “I've been doing this a long time.” He only looked like he had his shit together. “I’ve matched many, many soulmates to each other. We’ll find yours.”

For the next thirty minutes, the boy filled out the personal questions to narrow down the search. Lady Ferear had her feathers in a ruffle when Gabe finally brought Corrilian back to her. He escorted them to the elevator with instructions that as soon as the ritual was complete, someone would reach out to them with what happened next. 

Only once she was finally out of his hair could Gabe finally breathe. His desk phone rang. With a groan, he answered it. 

“So, how did that go?” Izzy asked. 

“Like she should have been the matchmaker if she knows so much about matching magic,” Gabe snorted. 

“I don’t understand people. If they think they can do better, how come they haven’t found their soulmate on their own?” 

“Everyone always thinks that until they see that without us they never would have found shit.”

“Unless Fate feels like not being a bitch for once.”

“Fate likes being a bitch,” Gabe said. “And she hates our clan in particular.”

“She hates everyone.” Izzy sighed. “You’ve got a full day ahead of you. You ready?”

Gabe sighed. “Send up the next appointment.”

The rest of the day went by. Gabe assessed the client's files, cross referencing Izzy’s gut instincts and inputting the information into Luciana’s computer algorithm. Once everything was entered into the computer, all that was left to do was wait. 

Once four o’clock hit, Gabe packed up his completed files into his briefcase, his personal magical items, and locked the office behind him. With a spring in his step, he jogged down the hall to Maria’s office. He knocked on her door. 

“Dearest sister, time to stop slacking and do some magic.” 

The door opened several moments later. “Hold this.” She didn’t wait for him to agree before stuffing a stack of folders in his arms and digging through it. 

“Missing something?” Gabe asked. 

“Organizing,” Maria said. 

He arched an eyebrow at the immaculate stack. “There’s someone more organized than alphabetical?” 

“I don’t judge you on how you run your clients.”

“Yes you do,” he grumbled. 

His sister ignored him. “Don’t judge my systems. It works.” She finished whatever minute detail was out of place and took her folders back. “I’m ready.” 

Together, they headed down the hall to the elevator. 

“Anyone interesting today?” Gabe asked on the ride down. 

Maria shook her head. “Standard stuff. If you don’t count a centaur struggling to decide if she should check bisexual or pansexual and her stream of consiousness journey to sexual enlightnement.” 

“What did she end up picking?”

Maria laughed. “Client-matchmaker privilege, Gabriel. You know that. What about you? Any fun ones today?”

Gabe shook his head. “Pushy minor noble elf who doesn’t believe in human magic. Her poor kid’s scared to death he’s not going to have a soulmate and end up in a political marriage.”

“Nobles are crazy. You would have thought after all this time they would have come up with a better way for families to solidify power without having to shackle their poor kids to a lifetime of misery.”

The elevator doors dinged and opened to Luciana’s Lair. The open floor plan was crammed full of servers. The room was cold, so the massive computer didn’t overheat. Some nights, if their ritual ran long, Gabe left this place a witch-popsicle. Countless wires threaded through the room, bound into bundles thick as Gabe’s arm. The only place not stacked with computer power was the center of the room. 

A circle table covered in a black cloth was the only non-computer related thing in the room. Luciana herself was already at the table, headphones in, legs draped over another chair, scrolling through her phone. 

Maria swept Luciana’s feet off the chair. “Were you raised in a barn?”

Luciana scoffed and pulled her legs under, sitting cross-legged in her seat. “Whatever. It’s a chair.” 

“A nice chair that doesn’t need your dirty boots on them.” Maria set her folders on the table and took her seat. 

Gabe took his seat as well. “They’re antiques from  _ Abuela’s _ matchmaking days. Let’s try to keep them nice for a while shall we?”

Luciana rolled her eyes. “Fine. Can we make this fast tonight? I’ve got tickets to a concert.” 

“We do as many as we need to do,” Maria said. “Or we’ll have to be here Saturday to catch up on Matching.” 

Luciana groaned and turned to Gabe. “No more overtime. I have a date Saturday. Come on, big brother. Don’t let her drag us here on the weekend!”

Gabe shrugged. “If we get through all today’s folders, no reason to come in.” 

Luciana groaned again. “Am I the only one with a social life in this family?” 

“Who has time for a social life?” Izzy asked as she entered the ritual room lugging a large banker’s box of pink files. 

“Luciana, apparently,” Maria said, rolling her eyes. 

“Must be nice,” Izzy scoffed. “I haven’t had a social life since I started working here.” She set the box on the table. 

“All of you could, you just choose not to,” Luciana defended.

“Some of us like sleep,” Maria said, laying out her first folders. 

“Sleep is for the weak,” Lucana shot back.

“Some of us have to work with people all day and the last thing we want to do is hang around a bunch of sweaty strangers.”

Luciana gave him a look. “You’ve changed, Gabi. You used to be a party animal. What happened?”

Gabe shrugged. “I got older, took on more responsibilities. And I want to make sure our family business stays in business with a sterling reputation.” 

Luciana gagged and shook her head. “Whatever. I’ll do as many as I can, but I paid for my tickets. We’ll talk about Saturday hours, but I’m telling you right now, I get double overtime pay or it’s not worth me crawling out of bed.” 

Gabe shook his head. It was great their mother had expanded their businesses so much in the last few years, but at the same time, it had taken a toll on everyone’s life. Matchmaking took time, research, and a lot of magic. And it wasn’t a fast process. If only it was as easy as hiring a couple of more witches

“Let’s get started and make this conversation moot, shall we?” Mira prodded. 

“Okay, okay, let's do this fast,” Luciana said. 

Maria pulled a necklace out from under her shirt and lifted the chain over her head. The pointed, wand-cut rose quartz crystal sparkled in the light. Gabe pulled his own matching necklace from his briefcase along with his day’s files. Izzy took the top off the box and her and Lucana started digging through the pink folders. 

Maria held out a hand to Gabe and he took it. 

“Lady Fate,” she began in a clear voice. “We beseech you to guide us. We ask for you to reveal a small part of your grand plan.”

“Guide our magic,” Gabe picked up, “so we can bring two souls— or more— together.”

Maria gave his hand a squeeze and they let go of each other. 

Izzy checked the first pink folder. “Shadow Le Faye is the first up,” she said, then laid out five pink folders. 

Maria plucked the corresponding red and white files. She set them by the pink. Closing her eyes, she took a long breath, then let it out slowly. Carefully, she lifted her hand, letting the rose quartz stone dangle above the table. 

“ _ Show me their soulmate. _ ” Her voice was low, echoing like church bell, entirely not her own as she channeled Fate herself. 

The crystal glowed soft pink. After a second, it moved, swinging over to point decisively at the second pink folder before going inert and falling back into a neutral position. Izzy scooped up the four files, bound them together with a rubber band and put them back in the box. The folder Maria’s magic pointed to, she scooped up along with the client's red and white files. Those she set aside to go to Ally. The eldest Reyes sibling would prepare the final soulmate report and bring the client and arrange their first meeting. Gabe did not envy Ally’s job at all. 

“You’re up... Buttercup. Really? That’s their whole name? Buttercup?” Lucana asked, spreading out pink folders for Gabe. 

Gabe shrugged. “She’s a minotaur, it’s a family name apparently.” He put Buttercup’s red and white folders down, and cleared his mind. Once he’d let out a cleansing breath, he lifted his hand, letting his rose quartz crystal dangle over the table like Maria. He delved into his magic, reaching beyond himself, tapping into a familiar power far beyond his own. It sang in his veins, fueling him, making him feel like a fully charged battery ready to power the city. The crystal glowed a faint pink. 

“ _ Show me their soulmate _ ,” he said, in Fate’s own voice.

The crystal swayed back and forth, back and forth before the power faded and the crystal went inert. 

“Tough luck, Buttercup,” Luciana said, putting all the pink files back in the box. “Maybe next time.”

Izzy started laying out the next set for Maria. Back and forth they went, looking for matching through the stack fifty clients deep. By the time they were done, they were well into overtime. 

“I am so late,” Luciana grumbled, shoving the files back in their box. 

“We haven’t even caught up on the backlog,” Maria said, exhaustion dripping from every word.

“Nope,” Luciana said, slamming the lid back on the box. She grabbed the box and retreated to her office. 

Maria scoffed and looked over at Gabe. He shook his head. “I’m as tired as you look.”

She sighed. “All right, pack it up everyone. Lets get out of here.” 

Gabe put all his instruments back into his briefcase and helped Izzy get the last of the unmatched pink folders back to her office. All four of them left out the front doors into the parking lot. 

“I’m out!” Luciana bounded toward her motorcycle, ripping the helmet off the handlebar and jamming it on her head. “Don’t call me until four in the afternoon!” 

With far less care than Gabe would have liked to have seen, she revved up the bike and peeled out of the lot into traffic. 

“That girl,” Gabe muttered, fully expecting to hear car horns blare and brakes screeching. 

“I need to get more protection spells on her death trap,” Maria said, “before I have a heart attack.”

“I need a ride home while Mom and Dad are out of town,” Izzy said.

“Not it!” Gabe yelped. 

Maria rolled her eyes. “I’d never trust you to take her home and feed her something healthy,” Maria said. “Izzy you’re with me.”

“Can I drive?” Izzy asked. 

“Oh gods and demons no,” Maria said. “Passenger seat until they buff the dents out of Dad’s fenders.” 

“One time,” Izzy muttered, stomping toward Maria’s Porsche. 

Maria sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t want to be second oldest anymore.” 

Gabe put his hand on her shoulder. “Hey, she’ll get better. If you could teach me stick, you can teach her.”

Maria smiled, the tired bags under her eyes highlighting that she was also in need of a full weekend off. “Get some rest, Gabi.” She patted his back. “I’ll call you about coming on Saturday.”

“You can count on me.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Get some rest. And have some wine.” 

She laughed. “You too.” 

Gabe waved goodbye and got into his car. Traffic was awful—usual—but at least leaving work a little later than normal wasn’t the bumper to bumper hellscape it could be. He pulled into his long, winding driveway and buzzed open the garage. The outdoor path lights came on and trudged his way up the walkway. Gabe opened and closed the front door, locking it behind him. Dropping the keys onto the table, he striped off his vest. 

“Honey, I’m home,” he mocked. 

Reaper appeared, strutting toward him, tail in the air, tiny face set in a feline scowl. He meowed, indignant and demanding. 

“Meow,” Gabe parried back. “Meow feed me. Meow pet me. Meow make the bed so I can puke in the exact center of it. You are so demanding for something so small.”

Reaper ignored him and sat at his feet, tail curled around his little paws, looking up expectantly. 

Gabe rolled his eyes, stooped down, and picked up his familiar. “Yeah yeah, you’re starving to death and you need your dinner first.” He carried Reaper into the expansive kitchen. He set the cat down— with much screaming about the audacity that Reaper was set down— and opened the walk-in fridge. 

There wasn’t much on the shelves, not that Gabe cooked much. There were more take out leftovers than anything fresh. But, there were several dozen stacks of wet food cans of varying flavors. He glanced at the labels. “You want the Seafood Medley?” 

Reaper let out a scream. 

“Okay okay, not seafood.” He moved the front row of cans. “Turkey and giblets?”

Reaper hissed. Gabe rolled his eyes. “The vet said you need to start eating healthy. What about the crazy expensive stuff with the whole green beans in it?”

Reaper let out a low meow that sounded like something a monster would make in a horor flick before disembouling a couple of stupid teens. 

“Fine! Chicken pâté. Again.” He grabbed the can and left the fridge, kicking the door closed behind him. “You’re turning into me” He opened one of the darkwood cabinets and pulled out a clear crystal dish. “Before you know it, you’ll be in your mid-forties, no significant other, with a pushy cat that only wants you to feed him.” 

Reaper rubbed against Gabe’s arm and mewed sweetly. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He scratched behind the triangle ears. “You love me when I have food for you.”

Reaper meowed in agreement. Gabe’s back pocket rang. He pulled his phone out and put it to ear, holding it in place with his shoulder. “Bewitching Matchmakers, Gabriel speaking.” 

“Don’t you check to see who it is before answering?” Amélie asked. 

“It’s usually an important client,” Gabe said, scoping the cat food into Reaper’s dish.

“Am I not?” she asked. 

“I said an important client. You’re a friend.” 

She chuckled. “Then let me be a good friend and take you dancing.”

Gabe glanced up at the clock. It was already nine at night. “I have work in the morning.”

“It’s Friday, Gabriel. You don’t have work tomorrow.”

“What? No, it’s Thursday.” 

She tutted him. “Friday. You can’t use work as an excuse. Come out with Gérard and I. It’s been ages since the three of us have had a night out.” 

Reaper meowled, patting at Gabe’s hand. 

“I don’t know,” Gabe said, putting down the spoon. He picked Reaper up and tucked him under his arm. “I have so much stuff to do around the house.” 

“Just one little drink,” Amélie pleaded. “I haven’t danced in ages. Don’t you remember the days when we would go out and dance until dawn?” 

“We were younger then,” Gabe said, carrying Reaper to his placemat and setting him down. “Pretty sure I’ll break a hip if I tried to dance now.”

“You? The king of the dancefloor?”

Gabe snorted and set the cat dish down. The second it was in reach, Reaper was nose deep in industrial blended chicken paste. “You know you were always the dancing queen. I just tried to keep up. After all, it landed you a husband.”

“That was you, the most fabulous matchmaker in the world.” 

“I only pointed you in his direction. You did the rest.”

“And we both miss you terribly,” Amélie said. “Just a few hours, we’ll buy the drinks.” 

Gabe sighed. “Not this weekend. Maybe soon.” 

She sighed. “Of course. If you change your mind, just text.”

“Take care of yourself.”

“You too, Gabriel. You too.” She hung up.

Gabe got a frozen meal out and popped it in the oven. While it cooked, he opened a bottle of red wine and poured himself a liberal glass. He wandered around the house, watering his plants, making sure all the throw pillows were straightened. But honestly, the house was spotless. Always. Long work hours made having people over impossible. Not that he wanted to have many people over into his sanctuary. Amélie for sure. Perhaps Sombra, when she wasn’t scheming to get him on her internet show… thing. 

Perhaps he could go out with Amélie… but that would take a lot of effort. He’d have to get ready, dressed, pack condoms and lube. No. Way too much effort. He collected his dinner from the oven, re-filled his wine, and settled down onto his plush couch. Reaper leapt onto the couch and laid on Gabe’s lap. Reaper meowed. 

“You picked last time. No more Golden Girls”

Reaper sneezed. Gabe turned the T.V. and switched over to Haunted Antiques Roadshow season fourty-seven. 

“—sapphire houses the spirit from the 1700’s.”

Gabe took a bite of his dinner and Reaper laid down and wrapped his tail around himself. 

“Judging by the style and the amount of extroplasmise rust on the trines holding the smaller diamonds that surround the showpiece gem…. I’m going to say this is roughly 500 years old. I’ve taken the liberty of calling a local appraiser….” 

  
  


~

  
  


The room was empty. There was nothing, just himself. The windows were dark. The phone didn’t ring. He was alone. Always alone. 

_ Is anyone out there?  _ He called into the void. 

No response. 

_ Please! If you are out there, say something! Anything!  _

The floor under him turned to thick, sticky goo. Slowly, he sank, in complete silence. No one was out there. He was all— 

  
  
  


Gabe’s eyes flew open. He wiped the tears from his eyes. Cursed crow feathers. Stupid dreams. 

His phone on the arm of the couch where he’d fallen asleep said it was one in the morning. Reaper was curled up at his side, a little black donut of snores. Gabe stared up at the ceiling. The dream might as well be his present. He was alone, in the dark, with no one to run a hand down his back and sleepily ask if he was okay. 

It wasn’t fair. His whole life was spent finding that for other people. How come he couldn't find that for himself?

His phone buzzed. Reaper bolted upright at the sound. He looked around himself, saw the phone, hissed at it, and jumped off the couch in a huff. Gabe rolled his eyes. Dramatic. Sighing, he went back to staring up at the ceiling. It was no use trying to go back to sleep now, he’d just dream about how soul crushingly lonely he was. 

He glanced at his phone again. He needed something to take his mind off how his life was a void. Maybe— he reached out and scooped his phone up, shooting off a quick test. 

_ Still up for dancing? _

The answer came back in a moment. 

_ I have a spot for you next to me on the dance floor.  _

  
  


~

  
  


The club was louder, brighter, and sweatier than he remembered. And there was a fuckton more Axe body spray in the air than in his party days. The house music throbbed in his ears, drowning out his own thoughts. 

Hundreds of people crowded the bar, the walkways, the tables and booths like a semi-solid wall Gabe had to fight through. The dance floor was packed, but with some pockets here and there to leave space for dancers that might smack anyone who got to close. 

Amélie was in one of those pockets, the other dancers instinctually giving ground to her like they knew the dance floor was her domain.

Gabe had forgotten how beautifully Amélie danced. Classical, ballet, mixed with free form. It could enchant and overcome anyone who saw her. How had he ever convinced himself his dance moves looked good when he was next to her?

She turned, long black hair, whipping around and then falling around her shoulders. Her purple eyes caught his. She beamed and beckoned him. He looked left and right, then pointed at himself. 

She laughed and came over, taking his hands and pulling him onto the dance floor. 

“Dance with me, Gabriel!”

He followed her, letting the beat move him. Several songs went by. Everything vanished as he lost himself in the music. There was no stupid dreams here, and he wasn’t alone. More songs went by. Sweat rolled down Gabe’s forehead. Gods, he was so old. On their tenth song— Or was it fifteen?— he had to tap out. Amélie looked marginally tired as well, thank the good gods. They left the dance floor, Amélie leading him to a VIP table where Gérard sat with martinis waiting for them. 

“I love you!” Gabe said, nearly downing his drink to get some kind of liquid back in his body. 

Gérard laughed. “Love you too, Gabriel.” 

Amélie slid into the seat beside her husband. “I finally got him to come out with us again.”

Gérard laced their fingers together absently as he spoke to Gabe. “Hopefully we didn’t put you out,” he said. “I know you’re a busy man.”

Gabe smiled. “Dancing is good for me. I needed a break from work.”

Gérard grinned. “Speaking of your work, any luck for you?”

The sinking into a dark abyss feeling from the dream came back. Gabe shook his head and took a seat opposite the happy couple. “No, and I don’t have too much hope for that to change.”

“That doesn’t sound like the Gabriel I know,” Amélie said.

“Fate is set against me,” Gabe told her. “Against my whole family.” 

Amélie scoffed. “The Matchmaker’s Curse.” She waved her hand dismissively. “One of your sisters is happily married. How can you believe in that old witchtale?” 

“Just because a matchmaker gets married, doesn’t mean they found their soulmate. That’s the curse, we’ll never know if we’ve found them. We could marry someone we like, and leave our true soulmate to forever wander the world alone.” 

Amélie reached out and put her hand over his, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “That’s what all of us have to live with every day.” 

“If you don’t go looking for them,” Gérard added. “How are you ever going to find them?”

“Honestly? I’ve been booked solid for years now. If my soulmate doesn’t fall in my lap, it’s not happening.”

“Not if you keep dancing like that,” Amélie laughed. “There are lots of single people out on the floor. Let’s find you some to take home.” 

Having someone come home and keep his mind off how empty the house was? That sounded great. That was if he could find someone suitable. “After a few more drinks.”

Gérard kept the drinks coming until the alcohol took the annoying edge off the music. He took Amélie and dragged her back to the dance floor. She was right, there were plenty of people here looking nice. There was a handsome looking satyr with some glowsticks—raver type. No. A beautiful nymph in a glittery shirt was grinding against a Faeye whose tank top was so thin her nipples were visible through the fabric. Nope, they were clearly way more into each other. 

“What about him?” Amélie shouted at him above the music. She nodded at a pretty half-giant dressed in head to toe leather and platform boots. 

Nice, but not really his type. Gabe shook his head. He glanced around. There was a handful of handsome blond men dancing loosely together. They all looked like out of towners for sure, with nice looking polo shirts and jeans. They could be good candidates. 

“What about them?” he asked Amélie.

She looked over where he nodded. Her critical gaze swept over them. “Shifters,” she said. “Good for some fun.” She smiled. “Why don’t you dance with them and see?”

The very idea of talking to strangers made him need more liquid courage. “I’m going to get a drink and then see if I can insert myself into their dancing circle.”

Amélie smiled. “Text if you take one or more of them home so we don’t worry about you.”

Gabe winked at her and removed himself from the dance floor. He got himself an overpriced martini and pushed his way away from the bar. The shifters were right where he’d left them, minus one. The one with dirtier blonde hair than the others had popped open his shirt buttons, sweaty chest on display. Crow feathers. It had been ages since he’d done this. 

He took a calming sip of his drink. It wasn’t hard. He was hot, they were good looking. He’d go over, dance with them, maybe one would be interested…. Or all of them. Shit. What was the protocol for that? Shells and bells. Then he’d have to take them home. He wasn’t twenty any more. The very idea of taking all the shifters home and disappointing them all— His heart rate spiked up.

The music was too loud, the lights too bright. The air was choked with sweat and Axe Body Spray. This was not his scene anymore. Gods and crows, he was  _ so _ old. He used to be able to go out all night looking for some fun. But now there was nothing he liked about this— 

Something crashed into him. His martini splashed across his sheer, black shirt and face. A wave of beer crashed into his thighs, dripped down his legs, and pooled in his leather boots. 

“Ah fuck!” he yelped, jumping back. He could feel his eyeliner and mascara running down his face. Now he looked like a goth clown! “Could this place get any worse?” he yelled, but it was lost to the music. 

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” A wet napkin dabbed at his face. “I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t see you!” Another napkin dabbed at his soaked chest. 

Gabe batted the hands away. They were doing more harm than good. The music was making his head pound. “It’s alright, it’s fine, just stop!” 

The hands retureated. Gabe swiped away the martini from his face and assessed the damage to his outfit. The shirt was a total loss. The sheer fabric would stain for sure, and the rough treatment had torn a hole in the sternum. The leather pants might survive after a good cleaning, but they would forever reek of cheap beer. He hadn’t used the waterproof makeup, so he probably looked like a melting Nazi after looking into the Arc.  _ Great _ .

“I am so very sorry. I’ll pay to get those cleaned.”

Gabe looked up, a sharp comment on the tip of his tongue about where this asshole could stuff his apologies. His eyes locked with the ones staring back at him. They were sapphire, with little flakes of gold. The world felt exactly the same, but his stomach was now a butterfly habitat. The music didn’t seem as grating before and the lights were a little brighter, but in a way that made a halo around the golden hair. 

Something shifted, like something slightly out of place had finally slid into it’s comfortable niche. Gabe looked the man up and down. He was young, late twenties at most, but he seemed comfortable in his body. And what a fine body it was. He was broad in the chest and shoulders, with a narrow waist and hips. His legs went on for days and Gabe could very easily imagine them wrapped around his waist. 

Wait. 

_ What? _

Beer Guy looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights. Which only made him look younger and more adorable. Well, that and the adorable freckles that dotted his dimpled cheeks.

Hold on. 

What the hells was he talking about?

“I should have been more careful, it’s so busy in here. My hearing is shot!” Beer Guy reached out with the napkins again and patted Gabe’s chest. “Shit. This is a really nice shirt. I’m sorry.” 

Gabe waved the hand away from him before the shirt disintegrated under the assault. Beer Guy looked downright pained. His handsome face was so open and expressive. 

“Let me make it up to you!” Beer Guy shouted over the music. “Can I get you a new drink?”

Stay even longer? In this place? Where he would have to shout in the poor guy’s ear just to say something basic? Gabe crooked his finger. “Follow me.” 

Impossibly, Beer Guy’s eyes got wider. He blinked and nodded. Gabe led him away from the pounding music and strobing lights out the front door. Finally, Gabe could breathe again. And dispute the dull ringing in his ears, he could hear too. 

“I’m really, really sorry about your outfit,” Beer Guy said, sheepishly looking down and away. “It’s very nice, I hope it’s not ruined.”

It was fucking cute when big guys where shy. “It’s not a big deal,” he said, giving the poor guy a smile. “Honestly, I didn't like this shirt much anyways. I just wanted to talk to you without having to scream. 

“It was way too loud for me,” Beer Guy mumbled. His gaze lifted and met Gabe’s. “I will pay for it.” 

Gabe looked him up and down. Faded, well worn jeans, standard blue polo, some nice, but cheap looking boots. He didn’t look like he could afford to replace a designer label. But Gabe had tons of shirts. 

“I have a better idea.” Gabe smiled. “Buy me a coffee instead.” 

Beer Guy blinked, brows furrowing. “I don’t think the club serves coffee?”

Gabe laughed. “Not here. I know a place that’s open late. Best coffee in the city.”

Beer Guy’s eyes lit up and he smiled. He looked like Gabe had given him a puppy for Christmas. He was godsdamn adorable and it wasn’t fair how many butterflies Gabe was housing in his ribcage. 

“Sure! I just need to text the people I came with.”

“I’ve got no plans to kidnap you.” Yet. But it was tempting. He shot Amélie a text that he was leaving. “If you come home with me it’s because you want to.”

The smile widened, showing off the man’s perfect white teeth. With the sharp canines.  _ Oh fuck _ . That was hot. “Let me buy you coffee first and we’ll see how it goes.” 

Gabe cocked his head to one side and smirked. Oh yeah. He was coming home. “Let’s go get that coffee fast then.”

  
  


~ 

  
  


“I didn’t expect you to drink black coffee,” Beer Guy said in complete disbelief. “Aren't Californians, you know, supposed to drink half-calf, almond milk, sugar free caramel, extra foam macchiatos?”

“First of all,” Gabe said, grabbing a fistful of sugar packets. “How dare you. Secondly—” He tore open several of the packets and dumped them in. “I love black coffee.”

Beer Guy looked down at the growing pile of empty sugar packets on their table. “Black coffee, hmm?”

“It is black,” Gabe defended. “No cream.”

Beer Guy looked around the little hippie coffee shop, and the several other post-clubbing customers. He scooted his chair in a little closer and leaned against the table. He looked much more relaxed than he had in the club. 

“So,” Gabe began. “I want to guess vampire, but you are far too wholesome looking.” He sipped his coffee. 

Beer Guy smiled, cheeks dimpling, eyes sparkling. “I don’t know if that was a compliment or not. No one’s ever called me wholesome before.”

“Please say ‘aw, shucks.’”

“Aw, shucks.” 

Gabe smiled. Just as apple pie, baseball, Sunday morning church service as he’d thought. He wanted to take a big bite and see if he was as sweet as he looked. 

“Too wholesome?” he asked, reaching to rub the back of his neck, bicep bulging so much Gabe swore that shirt was about to tear. 

Gabe grinned. “Not at all. Makes me want to unwholesome you.” As soon as possible. 

Beer Guy chuckled. “Hate to break it to you, but that ship sailed many years ago in my first heat season.” 

Oh.  _ Fuuuck _ . “A were. Interesting.” And so hot. “I want to say bald eagle. It would really complete your whole all American look.” 

“Wolf actually,” he said. “Hope that doesn’t ruin me for you.” 

“Not at all,” Gabe purred. “Unless you're named Moon-Moon. Then I won’t be able to stop laughing” 

He laughed, eyes squeezing closed, shoulders shaking. “We have  _ one _ pop-star werewolf named that and none of us can live it down. I’m Jack. Not Moon-Moon.”

“Very nice to meet you Jack. I’m Gabriel.”

“Ah. So then I guessed right, you’re an angel.” 

Gabe blushed and scoffed. “Flattery will get you everywhere with me.” 

“Good. I like doing it.” 

Heat spiked through Gabe. Did he take Jack back to his place now? Wait longer? Did they talk more first? “So, full disclosure: It’s been a long time since I’ve done this.” 

“Go out dancing?” Jack asked. 

Gabe motioned between the two of them. “This. I’m… rusty on the protocol.” 

“Hey.” Jack reached out, taking Gabe’s hands in his. “It’s been a while for me too. This night can be whatever we want it to be. Coffee is good, and I want to find out more about you. It can just be that.” 

Oh no way was Gabe going to let tonight not end with him  _ not _ tangled up with a werewolf in bed. But it was nice that pressure was off. He squeezed Jack’s hands back and wrapped his magic around his coffee cup, lifting it up between them. Jack’s lips made a very attractive “O” as the cup floated back down. 

“Wizard?”

“Witch,” Gabe corrected. 

“Wow. Never met a witch before.”

“Now you have. What do you think?”

Jack grinned. “So far, very handsome. And forgiving of the tipsy guy who spilled his drink all over him.” 

“We witches are very forgiving,” Gabe agreed. “If I may ask, what brought you out tonight to spill your drink all over me?” 

Jack’s smile faltered a little bit, a veil of sadness descending over him. That just would not do. 

“It was a Pack outing. We flew out from Indiana and the guys wanted to have some fun. It’s a long story.”

“I love stories,” Gabe said. 

Jack waved him off. “It’s not interesting. But surely your story is. Why were you out tonight for me to spill my drink on?”

“A bad dream,” Gabe said. “I got lonely and wanted some company.”

“I’m glad you picked me to keep you company.” He squeezed Gabe’s hands. “Want to go walk Hollowood and Vine or something?” 

Gabe shook his head. “My house is a lot closer than that. Why don’t we walk there?” 

The blue of Jack’s eyes turned a little more gold. “Yes.” 

~

Gabe’s back hit his front door at the same time Jack’s lips found his. Oh fuck! Jack’s sturdy bulk pressed against him, making Gabe’s blood pressure go through the roof. He wrapped his arms around the bord shoulders, sinking his fingers into the shirt. Jack’s tongue licked along his lips. Without a second thought, Gabe opened his mouth. Jack surged inside, hands gripping Gabe’s ass and kneading the cheeks. 

“Fuck,” Gabe gasped. 

Jack swallowed up the word and kept kissing. Gabe raked his nails down Jack’s back, earning a growl out of him. The sound vibrated Gabe’s ribcage and made him shiver. His cock was hard and pressing into Jack’s thigh, and if they didn’t stop for a second— 

“I’m gonna cum before we get inside,” he managed to gasp against Jack’s lips. 

The kiss stopped, but the heat between them was still there. Jack smiled and stepped back. 

“Sorry. Came on a little strong, didn’t I? In my defense, I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the coffee shop.”

“Only since the coffee shop?” Gabe said, groping for the door handle. “Nothing wrong with the kiss.” His hand missed the latch. “Just don’t want to give the neighbors a show.”

“Worried they’d be jealous I get to kiss you?” Jack asked, his voice dropping to a rumbly, gravelly bass. 

Gabe nearly came in his pants. “Fuck. If you do that again I won’t make it inside.” 

Jack laughed and took another step back. “After you.”

Gabe’s hand finally found the latch and pushed the door open. He groped for the lights and flicked them on at the same time Jack’s hand cupped his ass. The door barely closed and Gabe shoved Jack against it, pressing his mouth to Jack’s again. 

Their tongues rolled together, hands groping each other. Fuck it felt so  _ good _ to have someone again.

“ _ Meow! _ ” 

Gabe ignored Reaper’s demand of who the hell was in his kingdom in favor of a much more delish, hotblooded Jack.

“ _ Meow! _ ” 

Jack broke off their kiss. “Is that a cat?”

“Yeah.” Gabe went back to the kissing. 

“ _ Meow! _ ”

Jack broke their kiss again. “Can I see it?” 

Oh gods, cockblocked by his own familiar! “He’s a cat, standard stuff. All black, such an asshole. Back to kissing now.” 

“ _ Meow! _ ” 

Gabe turned and glared. Reaper sat at their feet, golden eyes filled with feline rage. Jack untangled himself and squatted down and offered his hand. 

“Hey buddy. I’m Jack.” 

Reaper recoiled, hissed. Jack withdrew, turning his face away and hunching his shoulders. Reaper— apparently caught off guard— froze, one paw hovering in the air. He looked at Jack, then up at Gabe. Slowly, Reaper put his paw down. 

Face still averted, Jack slowly slid a hand toward the cat. This time, Reaper leaned in and sniffed it. After a couple of seconds of sniffing, Reaper rubbed his cheek on Jack’s hand. Carefully, Jack turned his face toward the cat. Reaper rubbed his face on him again. This time, Jack scratched Reaper’s chin, and Reaper allowed it. 

“Hot damn,” Gabe said as his familiar rubbed his whole body against Jack. “You’re good with animals.” 

“Yeah,” Jack said with a big, dopey smile as he picked Reaper up and cradled him in his massive arms. “I have a lot of practice.”

“He doesn’t like anyone,” Gabe said, looking at his cat askance as Reaper basked in chest and belly rubs. 

“I’m a special case.” Jack grinned at him, a mistechive glint in his eyes. “It’s my animal magnetism.” 

Gabe scoffed. “That was bad and you should feel bad.” He turned away from his… guest?... and headed toward the kitchen for wine. He needed so much wine.

Jack followed him, Reaper purring up a thunderstorm. 

“Do you like white or red?” 

“Paint?” Jack asked. 

“Wine,” Gabe corrected. 

“Whatever you drink,” Jack said, setting Reaper down on the counter. “I’m not picky.” 

“Blasphemous,” Gabe laughed, taking down a pair of wine glasses. 

“Holy shit,” Jack said. He pushed away from the counter and let himself out of the sliding glass door. “That’s the ocean!” He rushed to the railing of the balcony that looked out over Gabe’s private beach. 

Gabe grabbed the closest bottle and poured, then followed after Jack slower, heart still racing. He paused in the doorway. Jack had his hands on the banister, standing up on his tiptoes, looking out over the beach. All he needed was a tail wagging back and forth to complete the look. 

“Look at that beach! You could have a whole pack down there playing volleyball.” He whipped around, smiling brightly, eyes practically glinting in the moonlight. “You wanna go skinny dipping?”

“First of all, that water is cold as shit,” Gabe said, unable to stop himself from grinning at the youthful exuberance. “Second of all, that water is cold as shit.” He set the wineglass down beside Jack’s hand. 

Jack laughed, turning back to the view. “Wow. You can really see the sky from here. I haven’t seen it since we got to the city. I’ve missed it.”

Gabe chuckled as he leaned against the railing beside Jack. “I’m sure you have better views where you come from.”

“Back on the farm, you can see nearly the whole universe on a new moon night. It’s incredible.” 

Gabe looked up at the sky. Even here in his private house on the beach, away from most of the big city lights, there were only a handful of stars. “How does anyone sleep with that many stars?”

Jack turned to look at him with a grin. “Well, usually, we have someone else with us to look at instead.” 

Gabe smiled back, sliding into Jack’s space and into his arms. “Guess you’ll just have to make do looking at me.”

Jack swooped in, kissing him with the same intensity as he had at the front door. Gabe melted and had to wrap his arms around Jack’s neck to keep from collapsing into a pool at his feet. 

“You’re prettier than any stars,” Jack said, hands rubbing up and down Gabe’s back tenderly. His knuckles brushed down Gabe’s spine.

Gabe pressed his lips back to Jack’s. In a moment, Jack’s hands were pulling at Gabe’s pants. Fuck, he was the most forward guy Gabe had ever brought home. Usually, the twinks he’d dated wanted to be manhandled. But this— 

Jack pressed him back against the banister, tongue dominating his mouth, hands dipping into Gabe’s pants. Jack massaged Gabe’s cock slowly, working it with practiced ease. 

“Not used to being the one getting pawed at?” Jack asked. Somehow it didn’t sound condescending. 

“Mm,” Gabe grunted nocommitally. 

Jack chuckled, smiling. “Shame. You should be worshipped.”

“Worshipped?” Gabe repeated.

Jack captured Gabe’s lips again, slipping his tongue into his mouth. Gabe’s knees went weak and the only thing keeping him upright was the banister. 

Jack pulled back just enough so their lips parted. “Let me worship you tonight.”

Gabe would fucking let him do just about anything at this pont. “Worship me.”

Jack smiled and leaned in again, kissing him softly. Gabe whined and let himself relax. Jack pulled Gabe’s cock out, his big hand slowly stroking him up and down. Gabe groped, hand missing the railing twice before finding it. Jack’s chuckle was soft and breathy, causing Gabe to grow harder in his hand. 

  
  


“You’re beautiful,” Jack whispered against Gabe’s throat. “I’m so lucky you picked me.” 

Gabe’s breath caught in his throat as Jack sped up his hand.

“When you were on the dance floor, I was hypnotized.” He kissed Gabe’s throat, then gave it a playful nip. “Couldn’t look away from you.” Another kiss. “Any now I get to taste you.” He stroked faster. “Just as sweet as I imagined.”

Gabe had no idea what to say. He wrapped his free arm around Jack’s shoulders as heat coursed through his veins. Instead of coming up with words he claimed Jack’s mouth again. Jack eagerly kissed back, hand doing amazing things to Gabe’s dick. Just when Gabe thought he was going to explode, in Jack’s hand, Jack slowed, letting him catch his breath. 

“Mind if I join you?” Jack asked, voice low and growly and under Gabe’s skin in the most delicious way. 

Gabe nodded. Jack let him go and undid the button and fly of his jeans. 

“Hell’s fucking bells,” Gabe breathed.

Jack’s penis was  _ huge _ . It lifted up out of his pants like a beast rising from the deep. The head was massive and wet, beads already dribbling down the thick shaft. 

“This is a murder weapon.” Gods, it was still growing!

“A weapon of ass destruction,” Jack said with a grin. 

Gabe snorted, then laughed. This wasn’t the time, but he couldn't help it. He liked a good pun. “I’ve never had a man pun me when he took out his dick.” 

“Well , I was hoping to fuck you, not pun you. But if you’d prefer—”

“No. Definitely prefer the fucking. But I like a guy that can make me laugh.”

“How about I make you cum?” 

“Even better.” 

Jack slid his huge cock against Gabe’s, dwarfing it by several inches. So much cum leaked from the slit Gabe’s dick was slicked in moments. 

“Shit,” he moaned. 

Jack’s big hand wrapped around their cocks and stroked slowly. Pleasure zigged up Gabe’s spine and exploded into little bits of bliss. He rocked his hips, sliding his cock along Jack’s massive slab. He got a soft whine as a reward. Jack tugged them a little faster. Gabe sucked in a breath, cock throbbing. 

“So responsive,” Jack purred, stroking a little faster, more cum drizzling over Gabe. 

Gabe licked his lips. “You leak so much.”

“Yeah,” Jack huffed. “Got a lot of cum in me.” 

Gabe shivered. “Let’s see it.” 

Jack stroked them faster, wrist twisting on the upstroke. Gabe moaned, arching his back. Jack sealed their lips together again, swallowing Gabe’s voice. Gabe fisted the golden hair, tugging it. Jack growled rocking his hips and fucking into his fist. 

Gabe panted between kisses, gasping, moaning, balls growing heavy and tight. 

“I’m gonna,” Jack gasped as a line of cum splattered against Gabe’s chest. “Fuck!” 

“Shit,” Gabe breathed. 

Before he could marvel at the amount of cum that had soaked his abused shirt, Jack came again. 

“Oh fuck,” Gabe breathed as Jack’s hand only sped up, tugging them harder. 

With another low moan, Jack came again. He squeezed harder, hand gliding up and down with messy ease. He leaned in and sank his teeth into Gabe’s neck. The shock snapped Gabe’s control. His orgasum detonated behind his eyes, erupting out of his cock all over Jack’s abs. All he heard was white nose as the world vanished for a moment. 

Slowly, the ringing in his ears subsided and he could hear his own and Jack’s ragged breathing. Jack pressed their foreheads together as they gasped for air. Gabe’s body crackled, his nerves hyper aware of every place their skin touched, every whisper of the ocean breeze. That was a  _ good _ release. But Jack was still hard as stone in his hand. How was that possible? He’d coated them in cum. 

“ _ Fuuck, _ ” Jack moaned. “Haven’t come that hard in a while.”

“This isn’t an issue?” Gabe asked, giving him a squeeze. 

Jack whined, cucking his hips forward and splattering another line of white against Gabe’s chest. 

“Apparently not,” Gabe mused. 

“Werewolf thing,” Jack grunted. “When our knots inflate, we stay hard a while after.”

Gabe’s eyes widened. “You have a knot?” His heart thudded harder as memories of teenage-years kink sites came flooding back. 

“Jack met his gaze, blushing slightly. “Yeah… it’s not an issue, is it?” 

“Fuck no. It’s hot.” 

Jack grinned. “Been knotted before?”

“No.” Gabe ran his teeth over his lower lip, some of his favorite porn scenes replaying again in his head. “But I’ve always been curious.” 

Jack leaned in, kissing Gabe soundly for several seconds. His hand found Gabe’s and guided it to the thick, hot ridge near the base of his cock. Gabe’s heartbeat went wild as he wrapped his fingers around it. 

“Make you a deal,” Jack said. “You strip down with me and run in the ocean, and after, I’ll show you why werewolves are so good at breeding.” 

The idea of stripping down and taking a dip in the cold ass ocean made Gabe’s balls threaten to retract inside of him… but riding Jack’s knot…. He gave said knot a squeeze before letting it go.

“Fine,” he said, stripping off his shirt. “But only because you coated my entire chest in cum.”

Jack wiggled his eyebrows. “And I’ll do it again.” 

Gods save him, Gabe might be murdered by sex tonight. 

  
  


~

  
  


Jack was a human-shaped space heater. Gabe loved it. Made even better by the miles of hard muscles and the dusting of golden hair in all the best places. Gabe ran his hand over Jack’s chest, enjoying the feel of him, basking in the heat, and the way his big, pink nipples seemed to always be ready to be sucked on. 

Jack’s hand on Gabe’s ass squeezed. Not too hard, not too light, just right to make Gabe suck in a breath and his eyes flutter closed. 

“No offence,” Jack began in his low, growly way, “But you didn’t strike me as the type that likes being touched.” 

Gabe shrugged one shoulder, hand trailing down Jack’s chest to his flat middle. “Depends who’s doing the touching.” 

Jack smiled, thumb stroking back and forth between the cheeks. “You like me petting you?” 

“A lot.” Gabe trailed his fingertips down further, letting them ghost along Jack’s shaft. A moment later, his cock grew warm and hard. 

Jack chuckled, lazily rolling onto his side to face Gabe. “You like to touch too.” 

“Hard not to.” He ran the backs of his knuckles up the underside of Jack’s dick that was already swollen, a bead of pre-cum already gilisening at its tip.

Jack leaned in, free hand cradling the back of Gabe’s head as he slid his tongue past Gabe’s teeth. Gabe let himself be rolled onto his back, let Jack wedge himself between his legs until he finally broke their kiss. 

“If it’s too much,” Jack growled, “tell me to stop.” 

Gabe threaded his fingers though the short, golden locks. “My safe word is Halloween.” 

Jack chuckled, kiss-swollen lips quirked up in a smile. “I thought witches hated Halloween.” 

“It’s my goth ass’ favorite time of year.”

Jack’s pupils dilated and his nostrils flared. “You're a goth?” 

Gabe wasn’t sure what that reaction ment. “Yeah… is that going to be a problem?”

“No!” Jack nearly cut him off. “It’s really hot. Do you… have like… a black corset?” 

Gabe grinned. “Maybe.” 

“ _ Fuck. _ ” 

  
  


~

  
  


“I should take you to all the typical tourist traps,” Gabe mused into Jack’s shoulder blades. He didn’t want to deal with the crowds, but every out of towner wanted to go.

“Don’t worry,” Jack said, patting Gabe’s arms wrapped around his chest. “We’ve already got that handled. Stars’ house tours, the Walk of Fame, Grauman's Chinese Theatre.”

Gabe nearly signed with releaf. “All the big ones.”

“Personally, I would love to go to the Hollywood Forever cemetery. Visit  Johnny Ramone, Marilyn Monroe.”

Gabe propped himself up on an elbow and looked at the man. “You’re serious?” 

Jack looked over his shoulder, squirming under his gaze. “I know it’s kinda weird—”

“I know the groundskeeper. I can get you in for a private tour.”

Jack’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Crow feathers, if you keep looking like that I’ll take you to my family’s mausoleum. It’s like, 300 years old.” 

“Fuck yes,” Jack said, reaching out and pulling Gabe to him. 

They kissed for a long moment, Jack’s cock pressing against Gabe’s thigh. 

“How about tomorrow night?” Gabe asked. 

Jack’s expression fell. “Can’t tomorrow night.”

“Pack stuff?” 

“Yeah. A dinner I can’t get out of.”

“Day tour then?” 

Jack beamed. “Only if it wouldn’t be putting you out.” 

“Oh, I’ll be putting out,” Gabe chuckled. “And if you’re lucky, I’ll wear my corset.”

Jack’s whole body shuddered as he bit his lip. “Let me take you to coffee first.”

“I’ll never turn down free coffee. Throw in a bagel and I’ll let you do whatever you want.” He rubbed his face. What the fuck was he doing? “Sorry, you don’t have to say yes. If this is weird—” 

“Why would it be weird?” 

“This was… you know—” Gabe waved a hand between them. “A one night thing and I’ve gone and made plans and trips and—” He sighed. “I suck at one night things. I’m not trying to ruin your pack trip. You can leave my dumb ass—”

Jack kissed him again, long and slow, making Gabe pull him in for more. 

“You’ve been the best thing that’s happened to me this whole cursed trip,” Jack said against his lips. “I want to get breakfast with you. I want to go to that cemetery and not see anything other than you in that corset. Frankly, I want to be clawing you out of it and miss that dinner in favor of eating your ass.” 

Gabe’s heart pounded. He shouldn’t be getting his hopes up. He knew he shouldn’t. But still, he  _ wanted _ it so badly it practically hurt. 

“That can be arranged,” he breathed. “I know how to get in and out of the family mausoleum without being seen. Or heard.” 

Jack’s grin widened. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” 

  
  


~

Gabe’s phone buzzed. Jack grumbled in his sleep, pulling him closer. Gabe sleepily smiled, running a hand down Jack’s back until he stilled and his breathing evened out. Once Jack was settled, He reached over and picked up his phone. 

_ How are you feeling about coming in? _ Maria asked. 

Gabe grinned and typed back a quick response before tossing his phone out of reach and snuggling back down into that perfectly fuzzy, rock-hard chest and drifting off. 

_ I have plans with someone. _

**Author's Note:**

> Gabe wanted a big beast boyfriend and Jack wanted a sexy goth boyfriend. Fate obliged them. XD


End file.
